Dear Life-Changing Events of 2010:

Dear Live Changing Events of 2010:

I wasn’t terribly fond of the way you entered my life a few years ago and unapologetically devastated everything without warning. Who gave you permission to do that, Life Changing Events of 2010?

While my life wasn’t what I’d call perfect, I was fumbling my way through. I’ll admit I was too scared to change anything and that the fear was big enough to keep me in place.

In my darkest moments of unhappiness, I told myself lies about who I was and what was possible, and I mostly believed them. The uncertainty that arose from questioning them was too overwhelming to contemplate.

The lies were comfortable, or at least I thought so, until you came along on that hot Summer’s evening and unraveled my world.

For a while, I believed you had taken everything and I fell prey to thoughts of the glaring injustice inflicted upon me. I desperately wanted the key to unlock the door leading back into my old life.

Many nights I was balled up on the floor in a pool of tears.

Many nights I poured extra wine in my glass to disconnect the pain that was too much too face.

In the beginning, I looked only at what I thought I had lost which, in my mind, seemed to be almost every important thing. My nice house. My horses. Many friends. Carloads of superfluous stuff, and more carloads of superfluous stuff.

The most painful was the identity I had created for myself, the one that made me seem happy and well put together to the outside world, while I lived in my nice house with all the superfluous stuff and my fear.

Losing the identity was quite a shakedown because – who am I – if not the lady who has it all together?

Thanks to you, Life-Changing Events of 2010, I had to learn this the hard way.

I am the lady who doesn’t have it all together and, in spite of this, I am enough. I am a human on the learning curve, at times, just barely hanging on. I have come to love this idea of being enough and have a daily practice of wrapping this new way of being around me like a comforting blanket.

I don’t think I would have discovered this in my own good time.

I am the lady who lives a life embracing uncertainty. I am a mother who continues to fiercely nurture her children. I am a wounded being on the path to healing and living a life that often stretches me so far beyond my comfort zone, I can barely breathe.

And, strangely, it feels good because I feel alive, not numb, the way I did before.

While your methods were rather harsh and abrupt, and I wish you could have been more kind to my children, I have come to see the lessons as a gift – one that keeps on giving. Often, the gifts aren’t what I think I want, but seem to be what I need, in order to grow.

“One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle with strike you as the most beautiful.” Sigmund Freud

I understand now that initially I made the struggle far worse with my desire to remain the same, but you made that utterly impossible to do. For that I am eternally grateful.

I am still learning and I no longer want to go back to my old ways or self. I do miss my horses terribly.

With sincere gratitude,


Who is Dianna Bonny?

Hi, my name is Dianna Bonny. It’s my mission to candidly share my journey with you. For me, it’s all about the healing: to create a radiant healing energy for others who have befallen a similar fate. Together, we can forge beautiful lives of belonging and connection. Thanks for joining me today! I look forward to hearing from you.

  2 comments for “Dear Life-Changing Events of 2010:

  1. Susie
    February 15, 2015 at 12:54 pm

    Hey there, Dianna
    Your northern cousin here. That latest blog you wrote resonated with me through and through. 2010 was my year of misfortunes as well – the desinitgration of my marriage and family unit, a very stressful job, financial pressure and a diagnosis of MS. I was diagnosed in June and moved out of my family home and away from my kids in July utterly numb. I had many nights (and days) of tears that I was certain I’d never see the end of , and many, many bottles of wine ( not just a few glasses lol) that I escaped into. No matter how bad things were though, I always believed I’d find a silver lining or two. And over time my compassion for myself and others grew. Today I can say, looking back on my experiences and at how I handled myself, how frigging resilient I was although I didn’t think so at the time. Grit is a good word for what carried me through some very bleak times in deed. Thank goodness for grit!
    A silver lining: I’ve always been compassionate towards others , but now it’s on a much deeper level that only those who have similar experiences can understand. I understand the need to escape into a bottle of wine. I never used to but i do now. And no one can relate to the anguish a disease like MS instills except a fellow diagnosee.
    There are days that i struggle, but generally I feel fairly content and I think that’s because I’ve made peace (truce?) with certain issues by accepting ‘it is what it is’. I’ve felt a gentle liberation by letting go of things over which I have no control. I’m very fortunate in that regard!
    Anyhow, keep up the fine work.
    Kind regards,

    • Dianna Bonny
      February 16, 2015 at 6:30 am

      Hey Susie: Thanks so much for the lovely comment. I love the belief in the silver lining you mention – I hold the same vision. Some days the view is clear, others not so much. We do have to muster our grit don’t we? There is something magical about that quality for making a life, but especially in view of a tragedy or health crisis. I am sending good energy your way for your dance with MS. So very glad to know that compassion is a part of your journey and that you have accepted what is. I have found that to be crucial to getting out of bed each day. I appreciate you stopping by and sharing. So nice to hear from you. Take good care of yourself and keep me posted on your journey. xo db

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